Works in the Bulletin 1913
'E passes by, each day, at ten -
   A bottle-shouldered yid
Wot looks as if 'e pushed a pen
   An' drawes a weekly quid;
'E's always with some little lass;
   (By cripes, 'e gets some pearls!)
We calls 'im, watchin' of 'em pass,
   The bloke wot gits the girls.

An' strewth! it beats me outer sight 'Ow girls can stand 'im - straight! 'E don't go five-feet-two in height Or eight-stun-two in weight; 'E couldn't swing a pick, - or scrap, - Soft 'ands an' sheeny curls! 'E's just a sorter - well, mishap, The Bloke wot gits the girls.
But yet each day some bit o' fluff Trips by, with this 'ere fraud, A-breathin'-in 'is silly guff As if 'e wos a gawd. 'E shoots 'is cuffs, 'e swings 'is canes, 'Is spiky mo 'e twirls, - 'E seems to mesmerise the Janes, The bloke wot gits the girls!
Well, tarts is tarts - it's 'ow they're built: I s'pose their gawd is clo'es; But 'im - the puffed-up piece o' gilt, I'd like to punch 'is nose! A-struttin', starin' round about As if 'is kind was earls! Cripes! 'Ow I'd like to pass 'im out - The bloke wot gits the girls!

"Mad Mick"
The Bulletin, 31 July 1913, p5

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